In the woods

Woods of my Island are still filled with ice and icicles, amazing sculptures of frozen water, which are slowly dripping… getting smaller and smaller…

Here and there patches of snow, because here none touched them with salt. None destroyed them except nature. You can find birds lovely tracks and prints of some smaller mammals and bigger ones. Yes, snow always shows everything so perfectly. Here we have yellow snow, and you know what they say about yellow snow. LOL Okay, in fact it always annoys me, hearing about it every winter is so pissing me off.

Yup, spring came.

But it is still so lovely calm and not hot, so I will be happy about it. Touching every last patch of snow and saying good bye. Kissing winter for a whole year, or maybe… maybe only for in fact eight, nine months? Who knows? We do not have a proper winter here, so all this white time was a fucking paradise for me.

And all those leaves… still here, like small teachers, which are helping the trees to remember how to make them again. So fragile, such a little sculptures. And lace sometimes. Like old ladies, smart enough to only observe, and say nothing, just smile, because… they know. They have been here so may times in this place and time, that they can say nothing… because nothing is sometimes everything.

Woods are awesome.

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